“Many a young’un has been taught to read by the Good Book,” the clerk replied, handing her the change.
“Indeed,” Elias replied and went to pick up his salt and the two pelts. “Simone, I’d really appreciate it if you would reconsider joining us for dinner. I could stable your horse and see to it that he can eat his fill, as well. Doesn’t hardly seem Christian for me to send you off on your way without seeing first to your most basic needs.”
Simone looked at the man and felt uncomfortable at the kindness she read in his expression. No one had ever treated her in this manner but her mother. She grabbed up her bundle and shook her head. “No, I’d better be going.”
She hurried for the door and had just stepped outside when a robust woman appeared from around the corner of the store. Not realizing Elias Canton had followed her outside, Simone was startled when the woman said in mocking disgust, “There you are. Thought you’d had to go mine the salt yourself.”
Simone froze in place, uncertain as to what she should say or do.
“Now, Gladys,” Elias’s warm voice sounded from behind Simone. “I met this young traveler and invited her to eat with us.”
The woman stopped in her tracks, her face rosy from the chill of the air. Her smile sent her cheeks into round little balls on either side of her face. “Well, you’re most welcome to come and eat with us.”
“No, really,” Simone replied, edging toward her horse. “I couldn’t impose.”
“Ain’t hardly an imposition. We don’t get too many strangers in these parts,” Gladys answered. “ ’Sides, lunch is ready. Or it will be as soon as I can salt the soup. You might as well come share a bowl with us. I’ve got fried ham and apple cobbler, too.”
The thought of fried ham caused Simone to reconsider. It had been a long time since she’d had anything hot to eat, and even longer since she’d had pork. The very thought of a thick piece of ham caused her mouth to water and her stomach to growl loudly. But any delay could prove hazardous to her well-being. What if someone had found Garvey Davis?
“We wouldn’t detain you for long,” Elias whispered, as if knowing her thoughts. “You would still have plenty of time to make for Laramie. In fact, I could tell you a place you might spend the night on your way.”
Simone realized she was losing the battle. She nodded. “I’d be grateful for a hot meal,” she told them both.
“Well, then, come on with me,” Gladys said, taking hold of Simone’s arm. “Elias, you bring that beast.”
Simone glanced over her shoulder at the gray-haired man in surprise. Elias laughed. “Don’t fret, Simone. It’s just her way. She means you only the very best.”
Simone nodded as Gladys pulled her along and around the corner of the mercantile. “We’ve got a little place right over there,” the woman told Simone. “Snug and cozy with two bedrooms, a kitchen, and a front room. I think you’ll like it.”
Simone didn’t know what to say. The cabin looked much like any other cabin, with the exception that a three-foot cross had been nailed to the right side of the front door. What in the world have I gotten myself into? The cross seemed to burn its image into her soul. Why won’t you just leave me alone? she questioned, glancing heavenward. Just leave me alone and let me be.
EIGHT
SIMONE MANAGED TO ignore the cross as she entered the house. The warmth of the room immediately made her glad she’d come. It seemed like forever since she had stood in front of a fire—since she’d really been warm. Going to the hearth, Simone put her bundle of supplies on the floor and extended her hands toward the flames. How good it felt.
“Simone has been traveling for nearly a fortnight,” Elias announced. “Her folks died and left her alone. She’s made her way down from the mountains and is headed to meet up with family in Laramie.”
“A fortnight in the mountains? You must be near froze to the bone,” Gladys said, her voice registering disbelief. “Goodness, child. All alone in the wilderness.” She continued to chatter without taking a breath. “Imagine, and you just a wee thing! Well, thanks be to Jesus, you’re safe and sound now.”
Simone could barely take it all in at once. Gladys’s continued statements, Elias’s gentle smile and tender actions. No one had ever cared whether she lived or died. Well, at least not since her mother had left her to fend for herself. Kindness seemed a foreign, almost uncomfortable condition to deal with.
Simone glanced around to find Gladys bustling from one room to the next. She brought a rocking chair and two heavy quilts to where Simone stood. “You take off that old coat and wrap up in these.”
Simone looked at the woman warily. She wanted to maintain her rock-hard wall of indifference, but the genuineness Gladys displayed softened her resolve. Not having bothered to rebutton her coat when she’d left the mercantile, Simone shrugged out of it and allowed Gladys to take it. Simone watched a moment while Gladys hung the coat on a peg by the door. It wasn’t that she believed the woman would steal the mangy thing, but she didn’t want it too far out of her sight.
“Here now,” Gladys said, unfolding one of the quilts. “Let’s get you wrapped up good and warm, then I’ll finish fixing our dinner.”
Simone reached out and took the blanket, surprised at the toasty warmth. “It feels like it’s been sitting in the sun all day,” she murmured and without thinking, smiled up at the woman.
“I keep ’em in a stack by the kitchen stove. Never know when someone takes a chill and needs to be warmed up. Around here it’s mighty easy to freeze to death. You’re one blessed little gal to not have done so in the mountains. God is good to look after us in our hour of need.” She paused to look at Simone as if trying to figure out how the girl could have existed so long on her own. “Jesus is truly good,” she finally said, shaking her head.
Simone said nothing. She pulled the quilt around her, then waited patiently while Gladys unfolded the second quilt and draped it over the first.
“Now,” Gladys said, leading Simone to the rocker, “you just sit here and rest while I tend to dinner.”
Something in her actions reminded Simone of her mother’s tenderness. Her mind had blocked out the loving memories for so long, and even thinking of them now caused an ache to grow deep within her.
Simone didn’t argue. She felt terribly weak and horribly tired, and the added warmth and comfort of the Canton cabin produced an overwhelming desire to sleep. Unable to fight the feeling any longer, Simone closed her eyes and allowed the heat of the fire and blankets to penetrate her body. Even Garvey Davis’s wounded image wasn’t able to haunt her at that moment. Relaxing slowly, she let herself descend into nothingness.
“Simone?” Elias Canton softly called her name. Simone jerked awake with a start.
Blinking several times, as if doing so might help her remember her whereabouts, Simone finally cleared the clouded images from her mind and replied, “Sorry. I must have dozed off.” She sighed, a foreign feeling of safety and contentment washing over her.
Elias laughed. “You’ve been asleep for over two hours. Gladys and I just went ahead and ate without you, but I figured since you were concerned about moving on to Laramie that perhaps I should wake you. Are you sure you wouldn’t like to just spend the night? We have an extra room. Used to belong to our daughter, but she married and moved away. You’re certainly welcome to sleep in her bed and take your leave in the morning.”
The idea sounded wonderful, but Simone knew that delay might risk the possibility of being caught. “No. I’m sorry for falling asleep on you.” She got up, casting off the quilts. “It was kind of you to take me in.”
“Well, come on, then, and have some dinner. We’ve kept it warm for you,” Elias replied. He led the way to the back section of the house, where Gladys was just now pulling golden brown loaves of bread from the oven.
“Oh, I told him to let you sleep, but he said you were in some allfired hurry to get to Laramie. It doesn’t hardly seem fitting that a young woman like you should travel alone
. There’s all manner of wild beast out there just waiting to do you in.”
“Yes,” Elias agreed, “and not all of them are the four-legged type.” Simone nodded. She knew full well what the Cantons were insinuating. “I’ll be careful. I have a gun.”
“So does everybody else in the territory,” Elias countered in a somewhat amused tone. “Look, why don’t I ride with you a ways. I could make sure you stayed on the right road and—”
“No!” Simone declared, a little more emphatically than she’d intended. Elias pulled out a chair for her, and without looking him in the eye, she sat down. “Thank you,” she murmured.
Gladys scurried forward with a platter of fried ham and biscuits. “These ought to fill you up a sight better than jerky.” She went back to the stove and took the lid off a large kettle. Taking up a bowl, Gladys ladled a liberal portion of steaming soup. “This will finish warming your insides, if there’s any chill left in you.” She laughed and brought the soup to the table. “At least the color has returned to your cheeks.”
Simone put a hand to her face absentmindedly. Both Elias and Gladys were looking at her as if they expected her to do or say something, but Simone wasn’t sure what it was they expected. Nervously she thanked them for their generosity, then dug into the food.
It tasted like nothing she’d ever had before. The ham steak cut easily with her fork, the succulent juices running out across her plate. Simone tried not to show too much delight in the meal, but in truth, she felt as though she had stumbled upon a kingly feast. She tried the soup next and found it seasoned in a way that she couldn’t recognize. Had she felt more comfortable, she might have asked Gladys for the recipe.
“So you have kin in Laramie?” Elias asked again.
Simone only nodded and continued eating. She didn’t want to have to answer Elias Canton’s questions. She didn’t want to lie to this kindly man with his generous, chatty wife. These folks had been mighty good to her, and while that had never been a privilege Simone could remember, she didn’t want to just out-and-out lie to them. Thinking like this startled Simone. She understood how to handle harsh, angry people. People with grudges or vendettas. Men who approached her with suggestive thoughts that Simone would just as soon never be a part of. But to have someone care about her needs, see to it that she was warm and fed … well, that was another story. It chiseled away at her defenses, and while Simone had always considered herself capable of facing most anything, she felt helpless in dealing with these people. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to return their openness.
Still, she reminded herself that remaining aloof and silent would afford her a protection she might well need in the days to come. The less they knew about her, the better. Knowing too much about her and about what she’d done might actually cause them a great deal of grief, and that was certainly no way to pay back a kindness.
“Here, child,” Gladys said, coming forward with a steaming cup. “I just made this tea. I hope you like tea.”
“Tea’s fine,” Simone murmured and accepted the cup.
Gladys sat down in the chair beside her and shook her head again. “You look like you could stand a few days of rest. I sure wish you would change your mind and stay on with us. I miss my own girl so much that it would be pure pleasure to spend time with another young woman.”
Simone tried not to think about the woman’s aching heart, not wanting to imagine the misery of a daughter so far away from home. Simone took a large bite of the fluffy biscuit and tried not to think of anything but the food. Don’t be a fool, she reminded herself. The Cantons are nothing to you. Don’t get caught up in who they are and what they want. Don’t feel for them. Don’t care about them.
“I’m afraid that Gladdy misses our Eliza a sight more than some mothers might. She’s our only child, you see,” Elias told Simone. He smiled proudly. “She was even named after me, in a roundabout way.”
Simone dared to look up at the man and found only loving approval in his eyes. She swallowed hard and took a long sip of tea from the mug. The lump in her throat refused to move. No one had ever loved her the way these people clearly loved their child. Of course, their child had most likely not committed murder. That thought shattered Simone’s feelings of comfort in their presence.
“I thank you for your kindness,” she said uneasily, “but I really should be on my way.”
“I wish you would at least stay and have a bath,” Gladys said. “Your clothes could use a good scrubbing, and I’d be right happy to see to it for you.”
“Your horse looks pretty well shot,” Elias added. “I’ve put him in the barn. Gave him feed and water, but he could use with a rest, as well.”
He reached out to touch Simone’s arm, but she drew back sharply. Having never known a touch by a man that wasn’t intended for harm, Simone stood up abruptly, knocking the chair over backward. “I’m sorry,” she said, suddenly realizing her reaction. “I can … cannot stay.”
Elias’s expression registered surprise. “I meant you no harm, child.”
Simone realized how awkward the situation had become. “I’m sorry. I thank you for the meal. Thank you, too, for buying my pelts. But I’ve got to go now!” Her feelings were starting to frighten her. She longed for nothing more than to stay with these kind, gentle folk, but she couldn’t—she was a murderess and a thief, and nothing good could ever come to her again.
She moved away from the table, casting one last regretful glance at the uneaten portion on her plate. Gladys seemed to understand this and hurried to remedy the situation.
“At least take some of this with you,” she told Simone. “I’ll wrap up the rest of the ham and biscuits. They ought to travel well. Oh, and you can take one of these loaves of bread. That ought to do you for a couple of days and by then you’ll be to Laramie.”
“Thank you,” Simone replied, not knowing quite what to do. She wanted to reject the offer, but it seemed foolish to do so and her practical mind wouldn’t hear of it. She went to the door, retrieved her coat from the peg, and waited until Gladys and Elias approached with the cloth-wrapped food.
Elias pulled on his own coat and smiled. “I’ll help you saddle the horse.”
“That’s not necessary,” Simone replied, but he’d hear nothing of her argument.
“Now, you be careful on the trail,” Gladys told her. “I’ll be praying for a legion of angels to surround you and keep you from harm.”
Simone stared at her strangely. How odd this woman was with her prayers and her generosity. Simone had a tremendous urge to embrace the older woman, but she fought it with the only defense she had: indifference. It seemed natural for Gladys to act as she did. No doubt it was her nature, but Simone could not allow that nature to influence her own actions. She wanted nothing more from the couple, and she certainly didn’t want for them to desire anything from her.
“Oh, don’t forget this,” Gladys said, retrieving Simone’s earlier-purchased supplies from the floor in front of the fireplace.
“Thanks again,” she murmured, accepting the goods. She reached out for the door handle but found Elias had already opened the door.
He smiled at her and motioned her to go ahead of him. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, Gladdy.”
Simone kept moving toward the side of the house, uncertain as to which way offered her the quickest path to the barn. She glanced around and felt a sense of relief when Elias pointed the way.
“Barn’s over there.”
Simone nodded and followed him to a small stable. The run-down building hardly looked sturdy enough to stand, but inside it was surprisingly warm. Elias immediately set to work saddling her horse while Simone tried to rearrange the pack she’d made out of the extra blanket. She added Gladys’s generous offerings to her supplies and felt rather confident in the abundance she now had in her possession. Food, matches, and water. Water. She suddenly remembered the empty canteen.
“Could I fill my canteen before I go?” she questioned Elias.
“Sure,” he answered, reaching out to take the object from her. “I’ll just go do it for you. You go ahead and finish what you’re doing there.”
Again, Simone stared after the man in dumbfounded silence. She was used to being a servant, waiting on others—not the other way around. That this man should go after water on her account was beyond Simone’s understanding, and when he returned she barely managed to acknowledge his actions.
“If you stay on the main road and head back in the direction you came, you’ll go straight to Laramie. It’ll take you two, maybe three days. There’s a run-down shack about ten miles from here. You could stay the night there. It’s not much, but a sight better than sleeping out in the open.”
Simone nodded but said nothing. She hated the way this man made her feel helpless and needy. She longed to escape his vigilant concern and once again be on her own with no one but herself to count on.
“Have I offended you?” Elias asked her softly.
Apparently her discomfort was evident, and Simone instantly wished she’d been born a better liar. “I just don’t know why you’re being so nice to me,” she said, wrapping the canteen strap around the horn of the saddle.
“The Bible says that we should love one another. Jesus said, ‘Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.’ I’d certainly hope you’d do the same for me if I begged a cup of water.”
“It also says, ‘Trust ye not in a friend, put ye not confidence in a guide,”’ she muttered.
Elias looked at her strangely. “Where does it say that, child?”
Simone shrugged. “Micah, seventh chapter.” She grew uncomfortable and turned away, unable to face him. She secured the remaining supplies on the rump of the horse and tied them down tight.
Elias, however, wasn’t a man to be easily put off. “Simone, it seems to me that you have not known much kindness in your life. You can’t simply pull one verse out of context and pattern an entire life around it. The Bible is a book full of wisdom and hope.”
A Shelter of Hope Page 7